Lost in a Royal Kiss Page 7

  “No, you discussed it a moment ago. I have not yet had the opportunity to express my views on the subject.”

  He stared at her with disbelief. “What views could you possibly have? Did you think I would take your maidenhead, then politely shake your hand and be on my way?”

  She winced, torn between embarrassment at his blunt language and growing frustration at her inability to express herself with any clarity. “Unfortunately, I wasn’t really thinking things through, not in the moment.”

  “I would suggest you re-engage your wits as soon as possible, my dear,” he responded in a typical Sir Anthony voice.

  Linnet could practically feel her heart crash to the floor. “Anthony, do you love me?” she blurted out.

  His head jerked a bit, as if the question surprised him. “Of course I do, goose. I should think that was obvious by what just happened.” His tone suggested that she was a nitwit to expect him to be required to say it.

  “Pardon me for being so obviously dull-witted,” she said, trying to sound sarcastic rather than crushed.

  He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. When he opened them, she could see wariness in his gaze. Any sense of vulnerability on his part had vanished.

  “I’m not normally so clumsy in expressing myself, Linnet. Please forgive me. I simply wish to take care of you in the way you so amply deserve. There’s nothing wrong with that, now is there?”

  Lord, it was getting worse and worse. “Anthony, you must know that I do not need you to take care of me, nor would I ever marry you for that reason. I am entirely capable of taking care of myself.”

  He began to look mule-headed again. “My dear, you could very well be breeding as a result of what we did here tonight. The sooner we get this sorted out, the better. I will not have my wife subjected to unseemly gossip, nor besmirch either your family’s name or mine.”

  Linnet’s stomach clenched. She hadn’t thought for a moment about pregnancy, which proved that she did turn into a dimwit around him. She would need to be a great deal more assertive with him in the future if she didn’t want to see her carefully balanced life come crashing down in a heap.

  Still, he was right about avoiding unpleasant gossip or scandal. She wanted that as much as he did. But, for the time being, her other responsibilities had to come first.

  “Point taken,” she said, trying to sound reasonable. “But there are other issues we must take into consideration, as well.”

  “And what might they be?” he asked, sounding a shade too sarcastic.

  She clamped down on the impulse to box his ears. “You know very well that the queen does not wish Mamma to leave her post for some months yet. Mamma depends on me, and it would be the height of selfishness to leave her in the lurch. My first responsibility, for the moment, must be to my family. Any plans we make must wait for that.”

  He waved his hand, as if batting aside her objection. “I’ll speak to the queen myself. I’m sure she’ll understand, as will your mother. You’ve sacrificed yourself long enough, Linnet. It’s time for your mother to come home and start taking care of her family once and for all, instead of placing the entire burden on you.”

  Deep inside, a small voice agreed with him, but she recognized it as selfish. How could she think that way about her own family? They depended on her in a way Anthony surely did not. Mamma, especially, could not do without her. She’d made that clear to Linnet repeatedly.

  “Anthony, I love my family and they need me,” she said, hating the fact that she had to plead for his understanding. “I cannot simply abandon them.”

  He tilted his head, studying her. She could almost hear him running through arguments in his head, trying to find the right one to persuade her. Well, that shouldn’t surprise her. After all, he was a magistrate.

  “Linnet, do you love me?” he finally asked.

  She felt her jaw sag. “Of course I love you! How could you think otherwise?”

  His hands tightened around her waist, but his impassive face gave no hint of his emotions. “Because you’re showing so little enthusiasm at the prospect of our marriage. In fact, it appears to me that you’re doing everything you can to avoid accepting my proposal.”

  It only took a second for her disbelief to transform into anger. “A proposal, I repeat,” she said through clenched teeth, “that you have yet to formally make. Now, let me up.” She shoved her palms against his chest.

  He expelled an impatient breath. “Linnet, you’re acting irrationally. We need to discuss this like two reasonable adults. Flying off in a pet won’t help the situation.”

  Linnet could feel her eyes pop so wide she wondered they didn’t fall out of their sockets. “Let me up now, you big oaf,” she snapped, giving him another shove.

  That startled him enough for him to slacken his grip. She pitched herself off his lap, almost falling to her knees. With a muffled oath, he reached out to help, but she managed to evade his grasp by hopping back a few steps.

  Scowling, she straightened her nightclothes from the tangle around her legs and marched to the door.

  “Linnet, come back here.”

  She ignored his imperious tone.

  “Please stop,” he growled.

  This time, she did hear a genuine pleading note in his voice. She told herself not to do it, but she couldn’t help turning around.

  He’d made no move to follow her, standing in front of the divan radiating bafflement and masculine ire. He looked dark, dangerous, and utterly delectable, and it took all of Linnet’s discipline not to throw herself back into his arms.

  “Yes?” she asked, struggling to maintain her dignity.

  He rubbed an impatient hand through his long hair, adding to his general look of dishevelment. “Sweetheart, why are you making such a fuss? I don’t understand the reason for this excessive display of emotion, but if you explain it to me, I will try to understand.”

  She stared at him for a long moment, trying to tell herself that it was anger that sent her stomach plummeting and not an awful sense of humiliation.

  When she couldn’t, she turned and left the room, slamming the door behind her.

  Anthony put down the report he’d been reading as he listened to the chime of the clock on the mantel. Midnight, and he was only halfway through the pile of work he needed to finish. He was bloody distracted, and he could blame it on one thing.

  Linnet.

  She’d gone into full retreat. For several weeks, he’d accepted it, knowing some distance might calm her nerves. But three weeks had passed since that night in Lady Farnsworth’s study, and yet she had not sought him out to mend the breach between them. On the rare occasions when their paths crossed, Linnet made a point of avoiding him. Once, they’d come into a palace corridor at the same time from opposite directions. She’d jerked to a halt, and then turned on her heel and marched back the way she’d come. That had stunned the hell out of him, and only by clamping down hard on his temper had Anthony kept himself from storming after her, demanding an explanation for her behavior.

  One thing was clear after all these weeks—he needed a new strategy. It was obvious he’d made a muddle of things, and he’d better come up with a way to fix it.

  He rose from his desk, taking his brandy and wandering over to the fireplace, brooding as he stared down into the empty grate. Not everything had gone awry that fateful night. Their lovemaking had been spectacular. Linnet’s soft body writhing against his as he sank deep into her—that memory had disturbed his sleep every night since. She’d responded to him with such a sweet, innocent passion, giving him everything he asked for and more. Anthony hadn’t doubted for a moment that she wanted him as much as he wanted her.

  Until, that is, he’d outlined his immediate plans for their future. He’d made a hash of that, and at a time when she was bound to be emotional. He should have been gentler with her, but he’d been caught off guard by her reluctance to commit to anything, much less a firm date for their marriage. That had brought his possessive
instincts charging up, and he’d been hell-bent on bending her to his will. A mistake he sincerely regretted.

  So he’d left her alone, trying to respect her sensibilities and convinced that her superior good sense would bring her around. And even though he’d handled the situation like a great oaf—he still winced whenever he recalled her phrasing—Linnet needed to understand that she could not dictate to him. Leaving her alone had been partly his way of communicating that. He would not go running after her, or allow her to turn his already-complicated life inside out. Anthony accepted that she was a strong-willed, determined person, and he appreciated those qualities in her. But she could not command him or defy him. On that point, they needed a clear understanding.

  Downing the rest of his brandy in one swallow, he set down his glass and headed for the door. He’d get no more work completed tonight, so he might as well try for some sleep.

  He was about to climb the stairs when a sharp rapping sounded on the front door. He paused, frowning. Could it be one of his agents? He doubted it, because they would never raise such a commotion.

  The door to the kitchen swung open and Carter, still fully garbed, came rushing out. Anthony waved him back as he retrieved a pistol from the sideboard before crossing to the door. As he unlocked it, his impatient visitor began pounding again.

  When he opened it, Linnet practically pitched into his arms. She stumbled over the step, and Anthony barely managed to catch her while keeping the pistol out of harm’s way.

  “Good God, Linnet,” he growled, handing the weapon to Carter. “Are you hurt?”

  A jumble of words poured out of her mouth as he drew her into the hall. It took him a moment to realize that she was clutching the lapels of his coat, and that her hands were shaking. Her whole body, in fact, trembled.

  “Hush, my dear,” he said, gently interrupting her flow of words. “Come into my study and you can explain everything to me.”

  He started to lead her across the hall and then stopped. “How did you get here?”

  “I had one of the coachmen from the palace stables drive me here,” she said in a breathless voice.

  Anthony jerked his head at Carter. “Take care of it.” He gently towed Linnet toward his study, pausing only to retrieve the pistol from Carter and stow it back in the sideboard.

  “Who were you expecting?” she asked as she watched him put it away.

  He glanced down at her, but was unable to read her face in the shadows cast by the deep hood of her black cloak.

  “Certainly not you,” he replied dryly. He felt rather than saw her wince.

  Once inside his study, she started to untie her cloak. Her fingers were shaking so badly that she tangled the cords. Anthony gently brushed her hands aside and completed the task. He then led her to a chair, once again hushing her agitated explanations, before fetching a brandy.

  “There’s no time for this,” she exclaimed, waving away the drink.

  “Then make time.”

  Her beautiful face was pale and strained in the lamplight, and she held her body with a tension that vibrated in the air. Anthony crouched before her and took one of her hands.

  “I’ll be happy to listen to everything you want to tell me, love,” he said in a soothing voice. “Just take a sip of the brandy and try to recover your breath.”

  She gave him a wavering smile and complied. It almost broke his heart to see how her hand shook as she lifted the glass to her mouth. Something was very wrong, and it had nothing to do with their emotional impasse. If Linnet had wanted to discuss that, she’d had ample opportunity over the last few weeks to do so, nor would she appear at his door in so rattled a state.

  He took the glass from her. “Now, tell me what’s wrong.”

  “It’s Chloe. She’s pregnant.”

  He grimaced and rose to his feet. “That’s a troubling development, but I hardly think it warrants you dashing out in the middle of the night, putting both your safety and reputation at risk. Could you not have sent me a note instead?”

  Her eyebrows pulled down in a scowl. “I’m not an idiot, Anthony, which you should know by now.”

  “Yes, I do,” he said, throttling back his frustration. This was not how he imagined being with her again. “Then, what has you so upset?”

  “Chloe told Dominic she was pregnant. They’ve run away together.”

  For a long moment he stared at her, uncomprehending.

  “Now who’s the idiot?” she muttered.

  Anthony shook himself free of his paralysis. “But I saw Dominic this afternoon. We went riding, before I went into the City for dinner.”

  She raised a skeptical eyebrow. “And have you seen him since?”

  “No,” he said, with a growing sense of foreboding. “I haven’t.”

  Chapter 6

  Linnet fought to keep herself upright, a difficult task after several hours spent in a curricle. Unlike her, Anthony seemed to have an inexhaustible supply of energy, showing no fatigue as he drove them along the night-shrouded highway. She could only pray they would catch up to the children soon before she made a fool of herself by falling asleep and toppling into the road.

  The vehicle picked up speed as Anthony gave the horses their heads. They were in sight of the next village, where they hoped to catch up with the passenger coach carrying Dominic and Chloe. Dawn was breaking, too. Linnet had never traveled in an open carriage at night, and it was an experience she hoped never to repeat. But if they’d waited until first light to pursue the children, they might have lost them forever.

  She glanced at Anthony’s severely handsome profile, traced by the first rays of the sun. His mouth was set in a grim line, evidence of his displeasure with the situation. But even though they’d barely exchanged a word since leaving his town house, he’d still fussed over her, forcing her to eat and drink on their short stops, and tucking a blanket around her to ward off chills.

  There was hardly a chance of catching a chill, but when she’d protested he’d simply narrowed his eyes, sending her a silent but clear message. For once, she’d capitulated.

  Because it was the only thing she had capitulated on, he was furious with her. Linnet had insisted on accompanying him, and Anthony had been just as insistent that she not. When she’d finally vowed to hire a coach and follow him, he’d let out a string of oaths but relented and dragged her down to his stables. Linnet had been tempted to laugh, more from nerves than anything else, but the grim look on his face had killed the impulse.

  Fortunately, she knew where Dominic and Chloe were headed. Chloe had confided her plans to the Steeles’maid, a young girl not much older than she was, with strict instructions that the news be shared only when she and Dominic were out of reach. It had taken the combined efforts of both Linnet and Mr. Steele to extract the information from the girl, and the results had been horrifying—Dominic and Chloe were fleeing to the coast to board a ship to America.

  “What I don’t understand,” Linnet mused, breaking the long silence, “is how Dominic managed all this. Even if he and Chloe rode on top of the stagecoach, which doesn’t seem to be the case from what we learned at the last stop, where did he get the money to pay for it, much less their passage to America?”

  Anthony let out a snort, not taking his eyes off the road. “He picked the lock on my strongbox, relieving me of fifty pounds.”

  That jolted her fully awake. “Well, that was certainly enterprising of him, wasn’t it?”

  “Yes, he seems well launched on a criminal career. Thieving, lying, and kidnapping. I’ve obviously been a splendid role model for him.”

  The bitter tone in his voice made her stomach twist. “Oh, Anthony, I’m so sorry,” she said contritely. “I never should have burdened you with any of this. I should have gone straight to Prince Ernest’s governor in the beginning, or even the queen. It was wrong of me to foist this responsibility on you.”

  He cut her a startled glance. “I’m glad you did. I’m much better equipped to handle this kind of si
tuation than anyone else in the royal household, believe me.”

  “I know, but it’s been such a trial for you, and now it’s a complete mess.”

  He switched the reins to one hand and placed his other hand over hers. “Linnet, I always want you to come to me when you’re worried or in difficulty. I’d like nothing more than to sort out your messes, as you call them.”

  When he gave her a fleeting smile before turning his attention back to the horses, the tight band around her heart eased a fraction. Good Lord, she loved him, and she’d been so afraid she’d angered him past all repair. And she truly did want to marry him. What she didn’t want was for him to take over her life, fixing all her problems with the wave of his imperious hand. She wanted them to sort out their problems together. She wanted him to need her as much as she needed him, and she’d been hoping that some time apart might induce him to recognize that.

  And as relieved as she was that he still appeared to want to be with her, his words and manner suggested he had yet to understand why she’d stormed out of Lady Farnsworth’s study that fateful night. It was time to stow her lacerated sensibilities—and her fears that she’d made a fool of herself over him—and try to explain it once again. If she failed this time, there was no hope for them.

  As she pondered how to broach that tricky subject, they rattled into the village and onto the high street.

  “Belkingham has only the one coaching inn as I recall,” Anthony said. He extracted a pocket watch from inside his coat and flipped it open. “With any luck, we should only be a few minutes behind them.”

  Linnet grimaced when they rattled over a rut that almost bounced her out of her seat. “Thank goodness. I don’t know how much more my backside can take.”

  “I can rub it for you if you like,” he said. “I’m very fond of your backside, and I’d hate for it to suffer any more than it has to.”

  “How kind of you,” she said, rolling her eyes.

  He flashed a brief smile, but then went back to looking grim. “I’m sorry about all this, Linnet. If I had kept a better eye on Dominic, I could have prevented this.”